TITLE: COLD & CRAZY
[Hook – Cold Verse]
I’m cold and crazy, brain on shuffle,
Say the wrong thing, turn a hug to a scuffle.
Zone press play when they want that smoke,
Slim Shady spirit in a New York coat.
Cold and crazy, don’t stand too near,
Turn deep convo to a joke and a sneer.
If the beat got life, I’m a natural-born choke,
Slim Shady spirit in a New York coat.
[Verse 1 – Cold Verse]
I’m the type to crash your TED Talk drunk,
Trip on stage, grab mic, turn it to a diss stunt.
“Today we’ll heal trauma,” yeah, I got that too,
But I package mine in a verse that’ll violate you.
Treat self-care like “scream in a padded booth,”
Treat your whole top 10 like a satire spoof.
Your favorite rapper got merch, I got dirt,
Whole backstory sound like God went berserk.
I’ll sit in group therapy, takin’ mad notes,
Then rap the whole session over 808 jokes.
“Hi, my name is—” nah, y’all know who,
The red-flag cousin if Em had one in the Q.
I’m the glitch in the system they couldn’t patch right,
Reason your chill playlist start a bar fight.
Every rhyme a mid-life crisis in Timbs,
Every hook sound like Eminem lost in the rims.
[Hook – Cold Verse]
I’m cold and crazy, brain on shuffle,
Say the wrong thing, turn a hug to a scuffle.
Zone press play when they want that smoke,
Slim Shady spirit in a New York coat.
Cold and crazy, don’t stand too near,
Turn deep convo to a joke and a sneer.
If the beat got life, I’m a natural-born choke,
Slim Shady spirit in a New York coat.
[Verse 2 – Cold Verse]
I got demons doin’ TikToks in my frontal lobe,
Hittin’ little dances while my plans corrode.
Therapist like, “How you feel?” I say, “Perfectly fine,”
While my inner child spray-paintin’ “die” in my mind.
I bring snacks to my own damn intervention,
Crack jokes mid-cry, get a laughter suspension.
If God got a block list, my name in bold,
“Do not pick up when this dude Cold.”
I make breakup songs sound like roast battles,
Make love joints feel like kidnappin’ with no shackles.
You light candles, I light bridges,
You write wishes, I write glitches.
I’ll diss myself for a whole three tracks,
Then still scream “all y’all mid” and relax.
I’m a walking contradiction in an all-black fit,
Devil on my shoulder takin’ mental-health tips.
[Hook – Cold Verse]
[Verse 3 – Cold Verse]
Labels fear me like an HR email ping,
Every verse I drop got “problem” in the string.
I’m the “we need to talk” that your conscience duck,
Intrusive thought that refuse to shut up.
I’d ghostwrite your fave, make ‘em sound unwell,
Have ‘em overshare they browser history in detail.
I don’t need no image, I need chaos live,
Bad idea in a hoodie with a god-tier drive.
If Slim had a cousin from the East on loops,
That’s me, Cold Verse, in the dark group chats of your troops.
So if you want safe, go stream that guy,
The one with quotes your mom might buy.
If you want raw, unhinged, half-holy, half troll,
Hit play on this track and blame my soul.
[Hook – Outro]
ColdVerse
